


Playing Chess with Death

by Bluehaven4220



Series: Tim and Abby: Across the Water [5]
Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, due South
Genre: Aftermath, Canon past sexual abuse mention, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Recovery, Shooting, getting to know each other again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: “Abigail is terribly worried about you.”“I know. I’m worried about her too. I’m worried that she’s going to hate me for doing what I did.”“Hate you for what? Saving a life? Do you honestly believe Abigail is capable of that?”





	Playing Chess with Death

**Author's Note:**

> I am deeply indebted to both lightspire and ButterflyGhost for the beta, help and enormous amount of support they gave me on this story. I would not have been able to write this without them. 
> 
> I must warn you: this story contains several conversations about past (canon) events that may be triggers. I have also noted this in the tags above. I have tried to handle the subject with care and concern, but please, if it affects you, perhaps this chapter of Tim and Abby's journey is not for you.

ooOoo 

_I finish hanging the door on my little home that I’ve built for myself. I put the screwdriver down and swing the door back and forth on its hinges. It squeaks, but oh well, I’ll fix it later. After all, I’m the only one who lives in this house, and I have been for nearly twenty-four years; who cares if the door squeaks? Actually, that’s not entirely true. When I first got Here, Ben’s_ _mother Caroline was waiting for me, and she guided me through those first few months. As I watched my baby grow, and watched Ben learn from my mother how to be a parent, it was the greatest sorrow to know that I wouldn’t be there to see her grow up. But, as I watched them, I knew they would be well cared for. After all, Ben and our daughter Abigail had my mother to guide them._

_While Abigail was not my first choice for her name, I’m glad he chose it. Abigail suits our daughter perfectly. And he did give her my first name choice as her middle name, so I was satisfied. And Abigail was a beautiful baby. She still is beautiful._

_I go into the kitchen I’ve built and pour water into my kettle. The first thing I do for guests is offer them something to drink; and because it’s usually cold here, I offer tea._

_Just as the kettle whistles, the door opens, and I look up to see someone I’m not expecting to see yet._

_“Oh no!” I stand up and walk toward him, and I don’t even reach his ribs. “No! You’re not supposed to be here yet. Back out the door with you!”_

_He looks at me with wide eyes and a surprised expression on his face. “Are you…”_

_“June Amaruq- Fraser,” I tell him. “And I know exactly who you are, which is how I know you’re not supposed to be here yet. Why are you here?”_

_“I… I was hoping you could tell me,” he says. “Where am I?”_

_“You’re Here,” I shrug and grab a mug. “Would you like some tea?”_

_But where is ‘Here?’” He points to the floor._

_“I don’t know, I’ve just always called this place Here,” I pour water over a tea bag in my own mug. “Last chance. Would you like some tea?”_

_“I don’t…”_

_“Since you don’t seem to be in any hurry to leave, Timothy Bayliss,” he flinches slightly at the mention of his full name. “You and I might as well have a conversation. And that, young man, starts with you answering my first question.”_

_Tim blinks and manages to compose himself, gives his head a little shake. “Which is?”_

_“Do you want a cup of tea?”_

_“Uh… sure…” he nods and sits down at the table. “So, Mrs. Fraser…”_

_“You’re very astute, Timothy, but please call me June.” I pour water over a tea bag for him and sit down beside him. “Mrs. Fraser is my mother-in-law. And my grandmother-in-law, come to think of it.”_

_“Ben’s mom?”_

_“And his grandmother, yes, although I didn’t meet Caroline until I got Here,” I push the milk toward him. “She’s a wonderful woman. I’m still sorry I never got to meet her when I was younger. I did meet his grandmother, Martha, though. She raised him after Caroline died.” I shake my head. “Anyway, you’re sitting in my kitchen, when it’s clearly not your time. What did you do?”_

_I listen as he tells me that he was wearing his vest when the bullet hit, because he didn’t even think before stepping in front of Frank. He knew that Frank would not be able to fire his weapon to defend himself, and he couldn’t let Frank come to harm, especially since he had a family. Tim couldn’t risk Frank not coming home to Mary and their two children._

_“How could I look Mary in the eye, knowing that I got her husband shot?”_

_“So now Frank has to look my daughter, who also happens to be your betrothed, in the eye and apologize for the exact same thing? If that’s the way of it, then he’ll have to explain it to your mother as well.”_

_“He didn’t start this.” Tim winces and puts a hand on his back._

_“Neither did you,” I admonish_ _softly_ _. “The doctors are working on you now, aren’t they?”_

_“I think so. My back is twinging.”_

_“It will until they are finished,” I reach over and put my hand on his cheek. “And once they are, you have to go back. It’s not your time, so do not ask to stay.”_

_His eyes closed, and he sighed against my palm. “I’m sorry, June.”_

_“Why? Abby sings your praises, and I can see how much you adore each other.”_

_He sighs again and casts his eyes down toward the floor._

_“I’m not sure she should.”_

_Oh! Clearly there is something bothering him, and, from his expression, he hasn’t been able to tell Abby about it. Perhaps he is not sure of her reaction._

_“Why do you say that?”_

_His shoulders tense, and he bites down on his knuckles. In that instance, he looks frightened, like he wants to hide. He swallows audibly and turns his head away. He’s working up his courage, so I wait. We have time._

_“I’ve spent my entire life trying not to feel sorry for myself,” he tells me. “The murders of children that I have to try and solve… it hurts beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. I seem to be the one they call when it happens. Murdered child? Call Bayliss and Pembleton, they’ll handle it.” There is bitterness in his tone. “You see, I had an uncle…”_

_He goes on to tell me about George, choking on his words as he does. He mentions that he told his father about what had been happening, and was asked why he was lying. He’d asked to be protected, and his father had failed him. He also tells me about how he told Frank about the abuse, and when Frank had said a few weeks later that the sin was not Tim’s to own, he couldn’t believe the words. Tim turns in his chair, his face crumples, and he puts his head in his hands._

_“My father never forgave me for saying something so heinous, for telling such a terrible lie, as he called it. Why was I trying to drive a wedge through the family?” I am not hearing bitterness now as much as I am hearing rage. “From that time on, I wasn’t a person to him as much as an inconvenience.”_

_I feel my heart hurt for him, but I know I must keep quiet and still in order for Tim to finish saying what he needs to say. “After my father died, he wanted to be cremated. And to have his ashes dumped in the water. I did that, because I’m such a_ good _boy.” There is more rage in these words that he is speaking to the floor, his eyes hidden by his hands. “I have so many things I want to say to him, and I don’t even have a gravestone to yell at.” He chokes again, and this time he retches._

_I don’t try to stop it. Instead, I get him up and over to the sink, let him rinse his mouth out. Once he’s there, I mop up the puddle and throw the towel in the laundry room. “Tim…” I whisper, my hand on his back. “I am so sorry this happened to you.”_

_“Don’t pity me, June.”_

_“Not pity,” I insist. “You were wronged. I am sorry that you were not protected when you should have been.”_

_He lets out a sob, and moves his hands from his face. The look on his face as he stares into and rinses out the sink breaks my heart. “How can I tell Abby? How do I know she’ll believe me?”_

_“You know Abigail better than that,” For how big he is, he looks small, as though he’s trying to hide. I don’t dare try to move. I have to wait for him to move first. “Tell her in your own time, but tell her. Don’t go down the aisle with this between you two. Be honest with each other.”_

_He winces. “How can you stand to look at me?”_

_I ignore that. “I believe you.” I tell him._

_He start_ _les_ _, stunned._

_“I believe you, Timothy Bayliss.” I repeat, and I will repeat it a thousand times if necessary._

_He nods, and it looks like that’s all he can manage._

_“You were abused, but it is not your fault. It was never your fault.”_

_Tim is shaking, the look on his face enough for me to know that Frank Pembleton was the only one to have ever told him so. He turns, puts his head on my shoulder, and starts sobbing._

_“That’s it,” I pet the back of his head, smoothing his hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe here with me, Tim.”_

_He sobs until I feel his shoulders and back relax._

_“If you like, tell me everything you want to say to your father. If I see him Here, I will tell him for you, since you are not able to.”_

_I have no way of knowing if Tim’s father is Here, but it doesn’t matter. He sucks in air sharply, keeps his face buried in my shoulder, and says everything he wants to say. It’s a mixture of questions, rage, grief, and relief. I can tell he’s been holding on to this for years. And once he’s ready, I let him go and make sure he’s standing upright._

_“Tea’s gone cold,” I go over to the table and pick up our mugs. “Dry your eyes, love. I suspect it’s about time for you to go back.”_

_“How long have I been out?”_

_“A few hours_ _? A month?_ _I don’t know for sure. I only know how many years have passed because I’ve had to watch Abby grow up without me. It will be twenty four years next October.”_

_He blinks._

_“But that’s neither here nor there,” I continue. “The important thing is, go back. It is not your time. You and Abby need each other. I’ve never seen a more passionate couple in love.”_

_He nods at me. “I see where Abby gets her heart.”_

_“Yes, well, that comes from her father too, but thank you.”_

ooOoo

I’m not very good at waiting. Never have been. And sitting in a hospital waiting room is unnerving. The last time I was in a hospital for this long, I was twelve years old and a patient. Now I understand how hard it must have been for my dad to have had to wait. 

Virginia is in the waiting room as well, alternating between staring out the window and wringing a tissue in her hands. I can’t sit still, I pace around the room.

“Abby, you’re making me nervous,” Virginia tells me. “You look like a caged wolf.”

I stop in my tracks. “You know that’s what _Amaruq_ means, right?”

“Caged Wolf?”

I shake my head. “Just Wolf. Or Grey Wolf. In most cases, it’s Grey Wolf.”

Virginia gives me what I think is meant to be a reassuring smile. “I don’t know anyone named Amaruq.”

“Not yet, but you will soon.” Especially since my grandparents will be at the wedding. “That’s my mother’s last name.”

“Oh, I see,” Virginia nods. “Does that make you Amaruq-Fraser?”

“No, just Fraser,” I shook my head. “But my mother hyphenated her name. _She_ was Amaruq-Fraser.”

“How much do you know about her?”

“Not much. She wasn’t really talked about until I was about twelve. And after that, my dad and I put a rule in place; that Mom wasn’t up for discussion unless we were both in the room and had agreed to talk about her. It was incredibly painful for both of us.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s alright. We’ve relaxed the rule as I’ve gotten older.”

Virginia nods, and gets up to go stand by the window. I can see she hates waiting just as much as I do, and waiting when you’re in a stressful situation feels counterproductive. “But I still always ask him before talking about her, so I’m going to give him a call now.”

“Hurry back,” Virginia answers, and I go out to the bank of payphones by the nurses station. I drop a quarter in and punch in the home phone number. 

“Hello?” I hear Dad’s voice. 

“Hi Dad.”

“Hi honey,” his voice is calm and collected, which is exactly what I need. “Is there any news?”

“Tim is still in surgery. I’m here with Virginia, Frank, and Tim’s lieutenant.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “It should be soon. They’ve been working for a couple of hours, but I know they won’t let me in for a while, once he’s in recovery.”

“Next of kin is always first,” Dad agrees. “Everything is okay here. We’re taking care of the house, and the dogs are alright. Robo is a little confused and scared so he’s coming up to us repeatedly for reassurance and pets.”

“That’s good. Please tell Robo we’ll be home soon.” I nod against the phone. “I do have another question for you, though.”

“Okay…”

“Virginia was asking about Mom, and I wanted to be sure it was okay with you before I said anything.”

“That’s fine, baby girl,” Dad tells me. “It’s been quite a while since we put that rule in place. If you want to talk about your mother, that’s perfectly okay. She’s your mother.”

“Yes, but she was also your wife, and it was very difficult to talk about her for the longest time. Sometimes, I…” I swallow again. “I really miss her, Dad. Especially now. I need her here.”

“I know,” he tells me. “I’m sure she is, in one way or another. Has she ever deserted you when you were in need before?”

“No.”

“Then she’s probably around now. Keep your heart open, baby girl. She’ll more than likely say something soon.”

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. When I open my eyes again, I see her. She’s sitting in a chair by the nurses station, flipping through a magazine, wearing the sweater and jeans that she wore in the photo that Tim and I have in the living room. 

She smiles and puts the magazine down in her lap. “I’m sending him back to you.”

I nod at her, and manage a smile. 

“Abby?” Dad’s voice brings me back to our present conversation.

“Yeah, I’m…” I take a deep breath. “I’m scared, Dad. Tim and I just found each other. He just asked me to marry him, I can’t lose him. Not now.”

“Do you want me to come over there? I can call a taxi.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ve got people here. Um....” I pause for a moment. “You know what, I heard Mom.” I switch to Inuktitut and look over at the nurses station to be sure no one was there and was looking at me strangely. Everyone was out and about, and the triage nurse was too absorbed in paperwork to care. “I think everything is going to be okay. She said she’s sending him back to me.”

“Huh,” Dad takes the news in stride. “It sounds as though she needed to intervene. But she knows, Abigail. You can bet she knows what he means to you.”

“I know, and I’m so glad you like him too.” I look over to see the surgeon talking with Virginia. “The surgeon is here. I’ve got to go.”

“Call us with any news, baby girl. Love you.”

“I love you too, Dad. Bye.” I hung up and went back toward the waiting room, just as Virginia turned her head.

“Oh Abby, there you are,” she held out her arm and wrapped it around my shoulder. “Listen, Tim’s out of surgery and in recovery, so I’m going to go on in to see him. Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll call for you, alright?”

“Okay…” I turned and enveloped her in a tight hug. “That… that’s fantastic news. I’m so happy he’s made it through…”

Virginia lets go of me and follows the surgeon out toward the recovery rooms. I go to sit in the chairs with Frank, who’s now been joined by his wife, Mary. She has her hand on his back, while Frank has pitched himself forward, his head in his hands. 

“Frank…” I sit down beside him and lean forward. “Frank, please don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“It’s still my fault, Abby,” he says to the floor. “What kind of partner am I, that I can’t make sure he gets through to the end of his shift safely?”

“You’re _his_ partner, and you’re damn good at it,” I tell him.

“ _You’re_ his partner.”

“No, I’m his fiancée, there is a difference.” I insist. “You _could not_ have known that this was going to happen.” I watch as he sits up and looks me in the eyes. “Let me ask you this: do you honestly believe that Tim cares so little for you that he wouldn’t have stepped in front of you to save you?”

Frank’s mouth drops open, and he clutches Mary’s hand.

“You’re his friend, and he loves you dearly,” I continue, and Frank is still flabbergasted. “Please, this is not yours to own.”

Frank sighs and puts his hand on my knee. Then he gets up and goes to stand at the window. 

Mary moves to sit in the chair directly beside me. I look across at her and I see nothing but sympathy in her eyes.

“Frank has never been good at this type of thing,” Mary tells me. “Don’t take it personally.” 

“I’m not,” I assure her. “I’ve spent my life around police officers and detectives. I know that there are some who don’t handle strong emotions like this well. Once he’s able to hear you, Mary, please tell him that I don’t blame him. Shit like this happens.”

Mary nods. “Are you going to be okay, Abby?”

“Oh sure,” I answer, and I have no doubt that Mary can tell that this is false bravado. “My fiancé’s just coming out of surgery and I don’t know how he’s doing, and they won’t let me in yet. Why is this happening? This was supposed to be a happy weekend!”

I breathe in and out harshly to settle my nerves. 

ooOoo

I take Abby’s hand in mine and squeeze it, wishing I could send strength and comfort. Abby is still breathing raggedly from her outburst a moment ago. She’d been holding things together so well; I knew the calm couldn’t last. I’m just glad it had happened with other people around; that way she wasn’t alone. 

I went through the same thing after Frank had his stroke. Once I’d been given his initial diagnosis and prognosis, I wept. And Tim had done everything he could to help, especially since Olivia had only been a few weeks old at the time. He’d come over after his shift and look after her if my parents couldn’t make the drive up from DC, and, surprisingly, had taken time away from the Waterfront and would stop by with groceries, or would call whenever he could to ask if I needed help with anything. Now it was my turn to return the favour, even if Tim had once upon a time insisted that it was nothing of the sort. 

I’m somewhat sad that I’m meeting Abby under these circumstances. I’d wanted to ask her over to the house for dinner, but Frank, being as private as he is, wouldn’t entertain the idea. It had taken him three years to get comfortable enough to have Tim over to our house, and that was only after Olivia was born. Tim is a lot more open and receptive, and after he and Abby had found their house and had moved in, I’d been hoping to have a chance to meet her. Frank had mentioned that Tim was seeing someone, I just hadn’t expected to have not met her before this. Especially now that I can see that Abby has an engagement ring on her finger.

“So,” I start, hoping to take her mind off her worries for a few minutes. “How did he do it?”

“Do what?” she looks at me briefly and then down at her hand. “Oh. Um… we went for a walk last night with the dog, and we stopped under a streetlight. And he asked me so nonchalantly that I didn’t even hear the question at first.” She takes a deep breath to steady herself. “We hadn’t even had a chance to tell anyone before everyone at the precinct got called in. My dad and stepdad know, though. They came to visit for the weekend.”

I hadn’t realized that Abby had come from a household in which she had two fathers. Very progressive.

“Tim always tells me about how much he loves going to see Olivia and Frank Junior.”

I give her a small smile, hoping to reassure her. “We call him Frankie.” She’s a little more relaxed now; I can see her shoulders go back down from around her ears. “I’d be happy to have you over as well. I’ve heard Tim talk about you, but he also says that your schedule is as erratic as theirs is.” Theirs meaning Frank’s and Tim’s, of course.

“That’s true. Book publishing is a constant game of ‘hurry up and wait’.” Abby returns my smile. “But I’m going to have to go into work on Monday and pretend that everything is okay.”

“Does your work know that you’ve been dating a police officer?”

“Oh yes, he’s even come by the office to surprise me.” Abby smiles at the memory. “He’s brought me flowers, and even some lunch when he knew I was in the middle of a launch and wouldn’t have time to eat.” 

That sounds so much like Tim that I laugh a little. “How’d you meet him?”

Her sigh tells me that she’s been asked this question before, but she good naturedly recounts the story for me, and I laugh at the appropriate places before asking her about how they came to adopt Robo, and what sorts of things she enjoys doing when they actually have spare time. Despite the visible age difference, I’m beginning to see what drew the two of them together. There’s a mutual love of dance, history, exploring, and lots of laughter.

Abby is a very charming young lady, and I hope we can be friends as well as allies. After all, she’s going to need someone to help her navigate the upside down world that is being married to a Homicide cop.

ooOoo

“Abby?” Virginia has returned and is waiting for me. I’m glad she’s here, because I don’t think I could do this without her. “Come on. I’ll take you to him.”

I squeeze Mary’s hand, signalling that she can let go. I get up and follow Virginia back to Tim’s recovery room. She stops me just outside the door and puts her hand on my shoulder. 

“He’s not awake, and he’s still on the ventilator and breathing tube. And he’s bruised from the chase and from when he was hit.” Virginia is presenting the facts in a calm and collected manner, much like the doctor would, but I’m glad I’m hearing it from her. And in a way, I’m glad that I’ve asked Dad to stay at the house and make sure Robo is okay; I think I’d fall apart if he were here.

Once I nodded, Virginia reached for and squeezed my hand before letting me go into the room on my own. 

Tim is lying on his back, eyes closed and breathing steadily thanks to the ventilator. I steady myself and pull up the chair that had been placed by the bed for Virginia. As I do, I take his hand and just hold it.

Once I do, I listen to the sound of his breathing, and wait. Maybe Mom will appear again, and tell me that everything is okay. But I tell myself I’m being silly. Tim will wake up when he’s ready. 

For now, though, I’ll just be here with him. I’ll just sit.

A few hours later, visiting hours are over, and Mary and Frank have already taken an exhausted Virginia home. I don’t want to do anything other than sit at Tim’s bedside, but I know I can’t stay here all night. Tim is going to recover; and unless someone is dying and there’s no hope of recovery, visiting hours are there for a reason. But, I also realize, I’m way too tired to walk, never mind drive home. There’s no phone by the bed, and the only bank of payphones is out by the nurses’ station, so I have to drag myself _back_ toward the nurses’ station and drop another quarter in.

“Hello?”

“Hi Daddy,” I am just as exhausted as Virginia, and the fact that I said ‘Daddy’ should clue him in that I can’t do anything more tonight. “Visiting hours are over, and Frank and Mary took Virginia home.”

“Frank and Mary?” Dad prompts. 

“Tim’s partner and his wife,” I explain. “But I’m nearly asleep on my feet, and I don’t think I should drive home. Can you and Ray come pick me up, and one of you drive my car?”

“Sure thing, baby girl.” How did Dad always know exactly what to say to help me feel better? “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the waiting room. I’ve been kicked out of Tim’s room for the night. Like I said, visiting hours are over.”

“Sit tight, we’ll be there soon.”

“Okay Dad, thank you.”

I hang up and look around the waiting room. It’s pretty quiet, as we’re not in the emergency department, and I don’t have anything to do. I usually keep a book of crossword puzzles in my purse, so I pull that and a pencil out and read through the clues in a chair while I wait for them. 

I’m so absorbed in what I’m doing that I don’t even hear them when they come into the waiting room. I debate going to grab a coffee, but if I have any more caffeine tonight I know I won’t sleep, and that’s no good for anyone.

“Seventeen across is QUICHE LORRAINE,” Ray whispers in my ear. 

I jump in my seat. “Oh Ray, you startled me.”

“I’m just glad you’re still awake, sweetie.” He puts an arm around my shoulder. “Where are your keys? I’ll drive your car home. You’ll ride with your Dad.”

I dig in my pocket and produce said keys. “Where _is_ Dad?”

“Right here, baby girl,” I hear his voice, and bound up out of my chair. He holds out his arms and pulls me into a hug, and there we stay for what seems like hours, but really, it’s only about 30 seconds. 

It’s enough for him to realize that I can barely move. So, after peaking in on Tim through the window in the door, he walks me out to the car, and Ray follows close behind.

I don’t remember the drive back home. One moment we were driving away from the hospital, and the next, Dad was carrying me from the car into the house and into my bedroom. I feel like I’m twelve years old again, when Dad picked me up from school for fighting, and I jumped out of the truck and ran toward the river. The adrenaline that I’d had in getting to the hospital and making sure that Tim would get through surgery has drained out of my body, yet I can’t bring myself to close my eyes and rest. 

Once I know Dad has closed the door, I turn over onto my side and realize that, for the first time since we moved into the house, Tim is not in the bed beside me. That’s not entirely true; let me rephrase that. Aside from when he’s on night shift or has backed into a red ball, he is usually in the bed beside me. 

I roll over and grab his pillow. It’s still carrying his scent. I breathe in and hold it to my chest. It isn’t Tim, but it’s enough to muffle the sound of me crying. Now that I know he’s going to recover… _now_ I can cry.

ooOoo

_June walks back in the door, and I feel a rush of cold air hit me in the face. I don’t know how that happened, because I’m not facing the door, but nothing seems to really make sense at the moment._

_“Abigail is terribly worried about you,” June says._

_“I know.” I answer. What else_ could _I say? “I’m worried about her too. I’m worried she’s going to hate me for doing what I did.”_

_“Hate you for what? Saving a life? Do you honestly believe Abigail is capable of that?” She takes off her coat and hangs it in the closet._

_“Everyone is capable of hate, and sometimes there is nowhere to put that hate. We just have to live with it.”_

_“Yes, that’s true, but you no longer have to,” she assured me. “I understand that starting the healing process is not that simple. It is going to take time and patience.”_

_I can see she’s trying, and I’m grateful for it._

_“I guess this means I’ll have to go back?”_

_“Not immediately. You take whatever time you need. Abby’s at home with Ben and Ray, though she’s having a bit of a cry right now.”_

_“I never meant to do this to her.”_

_"I know, but I’m not the one you need to say that to.”_

ooOoo

I woke up to the sound of someone knocking on my bedroom door. I’d burrowed into the blankets pretty deeply, so untangling myself was a bit of a production. 

“Hello?” I call out.

The door opens and, to my surprise, Helen Harris is on the other side of the door holding a cup of coffee.

“Helen?”

“Hi Supergirl…” she greets me, coming into the room and sitting beside me on the bed for setting the coffee mug on the bedside table. “Your dad found my number on your list of emergency contacts. Said you might need some help for a few days.”

“I’m so glad to see you!” I push myself up and hug her, and I know she can sense that I’m trying not to start crying again. “Sorry I probably stink. I didn’t have a chance to brush my teeth or shower before I fell asleep last night.”

“That’s okay, I’ve seen you look worse,” she squeezed me tightly before letting go. “Drink your coffee, have a shower, and brush your teeth. Then come on out for breakfast. Chris has got mushrooms, hash browns and eggs going.”

“Chris is here too?”

“Yeah, your Dad figured you might need him here. He mentioned that Chris is a good friend of Tim’s.”

“He is.” That’s not all he is, but Helen doesn’t need to know that quite yet. “I met Chris the night that Tim and I had our first date.” I pull the blanket back. “He owns the Zodiac.”

“Oh, I _thought_ I recognized him!”

“How? You don’t live in Mount Vernon.”

“I don’t have to live in Mount Vernon to know that the Zodiac has delicious food and a nice selection of French wine.”

I don’t know why, but that off the cuff comment got me laughing. Helen did as well.

“Come on, Supergirl. I’ll let you do what you need to do. Then we’ll all have breakfast.”

“Okay. Thanks for the coffee, Helen.” Having her set out small, broken down tasks for me made the first few moments after waking up easier to handle, especially with how exhausted and worried I am.

Thankfully, I know I don’t take very long to get out into the kitchen. Chris doesn’t even say anything; he just turns and gives me the biggest hug he can. 

“Hey you,” I can hear the smile in his voice. “Breakfast is ready.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” I whisper and let him go. “Did my dad call you?”

“Last night. He said you were going to need some help for a few days.” He repeats what Helen told me, but I’m glad he said it. “How’s Tim?”

“When I left last night, he was still on the ventilator. But he’s going to make a full recovery. The doctor just doesn’t want to rush him. He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

Stating things so matter-of-factly is the only way I can tell both Chris and Helen what the next steps are without falling apart. 

“Anyway, visiting hours are from noon till 8 at night. So, unless something either terrible or miraculous happens, I think we should go around two in the afternoon, if that works? Tim’s mom wants to visit first, and I think she should. Who knows how much she actually got to see of him while everyone filtered in and out yesterday?”

“Makes sense to me,” Chris dishes out breakfast just as Dad is coming back in with Dief and Robo, Ray following close behind. “So, I only just noticed, Abby, that there’s a ring on your finger.”

“There is,” I manage a small smile. “Tim asked me to marry him just before this all happened. We didn’t even have time to call people and tell them. And trust me, you two were at the top of the list of people to tell first.”

“I believe you,” Helen sits down and offers me a carafe of orange juice. “Here. Orange juice. Good for what ails you.”

“Ha” I pour myself a glass and pass the carafe around the table, and, for just a moment, I’m reminded that everything is going to be okay. Tim will recover, and he’ll be coming home to both friends and family who love him. “Thank you so much for coming. I don’t know what I would have done waking up this morning to an empty house.”

“We wouldn’t have taken the dogs for a walk until there was someone else in the house with you,” Ray assures me. “There’s nothing worse than waking up alone after a tough night.”

“The funny thing is, though, I didn’t even hear anyone come in or go out.”

“I’d be surprised if you had, baby girl. You were absolutely dead to the world.”

“In any case, Dad, I’m grateful that you called who you did,” I answer. “I know you have to go back to Chicago soon. And I’m going back to work tomorrow morning and I’ll have to pretend that everything’s okay.”

“No you’re not,” Helen insists. “You’re going to call in tomorrow, and explain what’s going on. If they give you any grief, tell them you’re going to use your sick days.”

“I’d need a doctor’s note for anything over three days.”

“Then ask if you can take some time off. How long have you been at the publishing house?”

“A year and a half here, and a year at the Chicago branch.”

“So in total, two and a half years? If you ask, I’m sure they’d give you time off.”

“Cross your fingers for me.”

Helen made a show of holding up her hand, her fingers indeed crossed. 

“Is there anything we should be prepared for when we get there?” Chris asked. 

“Aside from the ventilator, he’s bruised and as far as I know, still unconscious.” I took a bite of toast that had somehow made its way onto the table. “But I could swear he squeezed my hand when I asked him if he could hear me. And when I told him I love him…”

Both Chris and Helen are silent; just listening. That’s exactly what I need, and I’m incredibly thankful. 

“But I was imagining things. It turns out I was squeezing his hand.” I turn away from the table to regain my composure. “I just want him to squeeze my hand, let me know he’s in there.”

“Soon,” Chris says, and, for some reason, that’s more reassuring than anything I’ve heard from the doctor. When I turn back toward everyone, Chris is still waiting patiently. “He’s lucky to have you, Abby.”

“I don’t see why, I couldn’t stop this from happening.”

“Don’t,” Helen admonished. “Don’t do that to yourself. My guess is that you said the same thing to Frank, didn’t you?”

I nod.

“We always do better looking after others than we do ourselves,” Helen moves her chair closer and puts her hand on my back. “Come on, at least try to eat something. You won’t do anyone any favours by running yourself ragged.”

I’m not all that hungry, but I do manage to eat a few bites. After all, I don’t want to insult Chris. I don’t think he would have been, but just the same…

I’m finally getting a chance to drink my coffee when the phone rings.

“Ah, I’ll get it,” Dad says, and moves to pick up the phone. “Hello? Oh, hello Virginia!”

Hearing her name made me stop mid-chew. 

“Mmm hmm,” Dad answers. “Okay. Yes. Understood.”

There’s Dad’s ‘officially unofficial’ voice. He’s getting all the necessary information and then he will tell us what we need to know. 

“Thank you again, Virginia, we’ll be there soon, if he’s up for visitors… oh, I see. Understood. Thank you kindly. Bye now.” Dad hangs up the phone and turns back to us. “Abigail?”

He used my full name. That’s when I knew something big had happened.

“Hmm?”

“Tim is awake.”

Oh thank Christ! I let out a sob of relief and put my head in my hands. “Let’s go.” I composed myself quickly and pushed my chair back. “I want to see him.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ray reached out and gently grabbed my wrist. “Let’s be calm about this, sweetie. If he’s only just woken up, he’s probably groggy and will need time to wake up fully. Finish eating, then we’ll all go. If you’re all discombobulated when you get there, then that’s not good for anyone. Least of all Tim.”

Somehow everything that he was saying made sense.

“Right, okay…” I sat back down and finished the breakfast Chris had prepared for us. Scrambled eggs with mushrooms, hash browns, and toast had never tasted so good. It was no wonder the Zodiac had won awards if he and his team could make food like this with the simplest of ingredients. 

Half an hour later, bag with fresh clothes in hand, we’d all piled into our cars and were on our way. Ray had been right; taking our time had been essential. Now, I was calm, collected, and (I hoped) ready to see Tim. 

We all walked in together, and Virginia met us outside Tim’s room. She didn’t say anything at first, just folded me into a hug. 

“The first thing he did once they took him off the ventilator was say hello to me and then ask for you,” she told me. “Now, he’s still on oxygen, but it’s just the nasal cannula so it’s supplemental.”

“Okay…” I nodded. “But he’s still all banaged?”

“Yes, but you won’t see that under the hospital gown.” 

Hospital gown. Right, that’s to be expected. “Is there anything else I should watch out for?”

“No. Just be careful of his back. He’s sitting up in bed but he still can’t move all that well.” She’s got an odd look on her face. “And he mentioned someone named June?”

I gasped and looked over at Dad, who swallowed visibly.

“Do you know who June is?”

I swallowed, trying to force air into my lungs. “June is my mom’s name.”

“Your mom?” Virginia gasped this time. “You mean, your mom who passed away?”

“Yes, but it’s…” I stumble. “It’s really difficult to explain. He must have dreamed about her, since I’ve told him about her. And we have a photo of her in the house.”

“Right, right. The one on the coffee table.” I don’t think she believes me fully, but it’ll do for now. “Come on.” She beckons me into Tim’s room. 

She leads me in, and relief floods my entire body. Tim is awake, and he gives me a smile.

“Hi…” his voice is raspy on account of having been on the ventilator.

“Hi…” I greet him, and cross the room in record time. I pull up the chair Virginia had been sitting on and kiss him. 

“I stink.”

“I don’t care.” I leaned over and kissed him again. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters. You’re alive.”

He sighed, and he smiled. “I love you, Abigail.”

Tim very rarely used my full name. “I love you, too.” I pulled the chair closer to the bed and grabbed his hand. “Dad and Ray are out in the waiting room, along with Helen and Chris.”

Tim’s smile grew for a moment. “All these people here for me?”

“Of course,” I answered, but I think he’s still groggy. “Dad and Ray have to go back to Chicago, and I don’t want to be alone at the house until you’re fully recovered.”

He chuckled. “Afraid you can’t handle sick me on your own?”

I know he’s joking. “If I can handle Robo crying at 3am because he’s heard something go bump in the night, I can handle you injured.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why?” I smile at him. “You think I can’t handle it?”

“Never said that,” he smiled back. “I know you can, I just don’t want you to _have_ to.”

“It’s not a question of _have to_ ,” I tell him. “Listen, Tim Bayliss, you’re going to be my husband. That means I want to marry you and dance with you at our wedding. For better or worse, you’re stuck with me. That means I will take care of you and help you recover. Okay?”

He nods. “Okay.”

I lean forward and kiss him again.

“Let’s get married today.” Tim says as soon as I pull away.

I’m so shocked I let out a single laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Let’s get married today,” Tim repeats himself. “The hospital has a chaplain, we could get him to come to the room…”

I can hear the panic in his voice that he’s desperately trying to hide. And suddenly I’m very thankful that Virginia has left the room so Tim and me can have some time alone.

“Tim, listen to me.” I grip his hand tightly. “Are you scared?”

“Scared…” he repeats under his breath. “A little, yeah. I’d say I’m scared…”

“Why?”

“What if the same thing that happened to Frank and Mary after he had his stroke happens to us?”

He’d mentioned this in passing one night; that Frank and Mary were rebuilding their relationship, as they’d been separated for a while after his stroke. This was also while she was pregnant with Frankie, and while Frank and Tim weren’t on speaking terms.

“Completely different set of circumstances,” I insisted, willing myself to believe that. “Maybe there were other factors and stresses that led to it.”

“There were, but that doesn’t stop me thinking that maybe the same thing could happen to us.”

I still didn’t quite understand where this anxiety was coming from, but I couldn’t exactly contradict him. We hadn’t weathered something like this before. And no, Charles Carver is not the same thing. The truth was, we hadn’t nursed each other through anything worse than the flu yet, how were we going to handle a gunshot wound?

“I don’t want you to be my nursemaid, Abby,” he explained. 

“Then I won’t be your nursemaid. I know you can do most things yourself right now even while you’re recovering. I’ll just keep out of the way unless you really need me.”

“No, what I mean is…” he pauses for a moment, and I can see he’s gathering up his courage to say this, whatever it is. “I think I’m going to go stay at my mom’s while I recover.”

My stomach fell into my feet. What? Why would he push me away like this? Why didn’t he trust me enough to look after him? Even if he was injured, I wouldn’t think any less of him or change my mind about wanting to be his wife. I didn’t understand this.

But of course I couldn’t articulate that. The only thing I could think of to ask him was “Why?”

“Because I can’t let you see me like this.”

Right, sure. Too late. I’m already at the hospital. I’ve seen him.

“That’s not an answer, tell me why.” I pushed. “What’s so bad about me helping you with the really difficult things while you recover?”

“Because I’m not strong enough to handle your pity!” his voice has taken on a hard, rough edge. “I can’t stand to see you look at me like I’m some cripple who you could toss aside in three seconds once someone whole walks by!”

I blinked, lost for words. Where had _that_ come from? I’d never seen this side of Tim before, and he’d gotten so loud that I saw Dad appear in the window of the door, just to be sure everything was alright.

I gave him a thumbs up and waved him away, which he understood. A few moments later, I saw everyone’s backs as they left us in peace for a few moments.

I turn back, and Tim is looking at me, shocked at his own words. 

“God, Abby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I’ll chalk that up to you being in pain and bored,” I nod at him. “No matter how old you are, being stuck in the hospital for whatever reason is stupidly boring,” I pull the chair closer to the bed and place my hand over his heart. “Please listen to me. Please.”

He’s silent.

“I don’t pity you, Tim. I never have.” His shoulders relax and he places his hand over mine. “What’s going on? Why are you pushing me away?”

At this point, he turns away from me and sighs. It sounds like he’s biting back strong emotions, and I see it in his face as he sits further up in the bed and winces.

“Your Mom told me I should tell you this.”

“Tell me what?”

He looks shocked, almost apprehensive. “You’re not at all concerned that I’m telling you I spoke with your mother?”

“No, not at all,” I try not to smile at the mention of my mom, as I can tell this isn’t the time for it. “I’m just happy she chose to appear to you. She doesn’t do that with everyone, you know. That means she likes you.”

“She yelled at me when I first walked through the door.”

“What door?” I ask. The only time I’d ever spoken with her was when we’d be sitting outside.

“At her cabin,” Tim tells me. “She made me a cup of tea after I told her what I’m about to tell you, and she also said that I shouldn’t keep this to myself anymore.” He gulps. “God, Abby, this is so hard.”

I reach out and put my hand on his cheek, making a note to ask him about the cabin later. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

And he does. He tells me every detail of what happened to him as a little boy. From the time he was five until he ‘got too big to control’, he’d been molested by his uncle. He told me what George had done, and how, when Tim was eight, he’d gone to his father and told him what had been going on. 

The worst part, Tim continues, “was that my father asked me why I was lying.”

Oh dear God. 

Suddenly, that dream he had when I was sick made so much more sense. He’d been dreaming when he’d said “Can’t tell. Won’t believe me.” _This_ was what he meant. No wonder he’d been trying to push me away; he didn’t want me to see him as vulnerable as he was now, for fear that I’d reject him.

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” I keep my hand on his cheek, not daring to move, but I’m not breaking eye contact either. 

He closes his eyes and turns his head to kiss my palm. “Just so long as you don’t pity me, Abby. I’m not strong enough for that.”

“Not pity,” I insist. “It’s not pity to tell someone you love that you’re sorry something awful happened.”

Tim’s eyes have gone impossibly wide; he’s still scared at what I’m about to say.

“I believe you, my love.”

 _That’s_ when the dam breaks. His face crumples, and he leans over, burying his face in my shoulder. 

I hold him as he cries, running a hand over his hair, and whispering in Inuktitut. Dad did this for me when I needed a cry; it makes sense that it might work in this instance as well. 

When he does calm down, I can feel how exhausted he is, but he looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. 

“Hey there,” I gentle him back onto the bed and run my hand over his hair again. “I love you, Tim Bayliss.”

He sniffs, and I reach over for the box of tissues by the bed. I hold the box out in offering. 

He takes two, and blows his nose. From that act alone, he’s calmer and more peaceful. 

“I can get you a washcloth if you like?”

He nods, and lets go of my hand. I reach into the overnight bag I brought for him, walk over to the sink and wet a washcloth with warm water. Squeezing out the excess water, I bring it back to Tim and wait as he runs it over his face and neck. 

“That’s better,” he murmurs as he folds the washcloth and hands it back to me. “I can’t believe that just happened, Abby. I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry? That sounded like a cathartic release.”

“It was…” he admitted. “I’ve kept that to myself for a long time. Frank is the only other person who knows. Well, Frank and now you and your Mom.”

“I can guarantee you that my Mom won’t say anything. Who is she going to tell?” I know that sounds a bit far fetched, but it’s true. “And you know I won’t say anything; it’s not my place to tell anyone.”

Tim falls back into the bed, and there’s a look of peace across his features. 

“How are you feeling now, my love?”

“Tired…” he manages, and closes his eyes for a moment. “But you only just got here a few minutes ago.”

“If you need to sleep, that’s okay. Here, I brought you someone who might help.”

I reach down by my feet and pull out the old stuffed animal I added to his overnight bag. 

He smiles and chuckles as I lay the stuffed animal on the bed beside him. “Where did you find Snuffy?”

Snuffy is Mr. Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street. I found him in the same box that had Lulu and a few other toys and trinkets that had been saved from our respective moves throughout our lives. 

“Same box that had Lulu,” I repeat for his benefit. “Having a stuffed animal can help with lonely nights in hospital.”

“Did I tell you, Jim got me this as a gag gift for my thirteenth birthday?”

“Jim, as in your cousin Jim?”

“Yep. Said he thought it might make me laugh. Little did he know Snuffy never left my side. Or at least, the shelf in my bedroom.”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’ve had Lulu since I was two. My great- grandmother Martha made her for me. I thought Lulu had the power to grant wishes.”

“Did any of the wishes you made ever come true?”

“A couple of them.”

Tim smiles, which soon turns to a wince as a bolt of pain goes through his back. “Do you know how much longer I’ll have to stay?”

“Virginia said from the doctor that you’d only need to be here about a week. Do you still want to head to your mom’s to recover?”

“No I don’t think so.” He’s clearly changed his mind after telling me his secret. “But I still don’t want you to be my nursemaid. Maybe Mom could stay in the guest room?”

“Sure,” I nod. “With Dad and Ray heading back soon, I’ll simply wash the sheets and vacuum.”

I see the tension ease from his face. “I’m so glad you didn’t walk out the door and leave me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because no one ever believed me before.”

“I believe you.” I repeat. “And I will say it a thousand times more if necessary.”

ooOoo

Holy crap. I can’t tell Abby this, but that’s exactly the same thing June told me while I was dreaming. The same words, the same intonation, the same expression. June didn’t think I’d heard her, but I had. Maybe there’s a truth in what they are saying. They didn’t stop to consider their words; they simply said them. 

Maybe for them, it _is_ that simple. Maybe if I believe them, it can be as simple for me too. 

ooOoo

I’m standing in the guest room at Tim and Abby’s home, the sheets and pillowcases fresh out of the dryer. Earlier, Abby had asked me to go on ahead and finish putting the sheets on the bed, since she hadn’t had a chance to do it. I got the feeling that she was a bit uncomfortable in asking me to stay; but not so much that she didn’t _want_ me there. She is, after all, going to be my daughter-in-law, but I don’t ever want her to feel that she’s competing with me. 

I sigh and get to work putting the sheets on the bed, and as I’m finishing up, I feel a wet nose bump me in the behind. 

“Hi Robo,” I greet him. I am also very glad that they adopted him. I hadn’t had a dog in the house since Molly, and truth be told, I miss having a dog. “What do you think, hmm? Is your pack coming home soon?”

Robo barks. 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve missed them. Tim says he misses you too.” I finish putting the last pillowcase on and sit down on the bed to pet him. “I’m glad you’re here keeping me company though. Is it okay that I stay here in your den?”

Robo gives me several approving vocalizations as Tim and Abby’s car pulls into the driveway. He runs barking excitedly toward the front door, and sits on the mat, and waits as patiently as he can.

I hear the door open and Abby appears, holding Tim’s overnight bag and Snuffy tucked under her arm. 

“Hi Virginia,” she greets me with a smile. “Everything okay?”

“It is now that you’re back,” I answer as I put a hand on Robo’s rump and make him sit. “Is Tim still out in the car?”

“Chris followed us home. He’s going to help get Tim into the house, since he’s about Tim’s height and can handle the weight on his shoulders.”

The two men come through the door just behind her, looking like wounded soldiers back from the front. 

“Three steps then you’re in,” Chris whispers as Robo barks another greeting. “Yes, hello Robo. We brought him home.” They walk gingerly toward the bedroom, one step at a time. Robo and I follow, and watch as Abby pulls the blanket back and Chris sits with Tim on the bed, helping him lie down on his side. 

Tim hisses. “Jesus Christ, that itches.”

“If it itches, that means you’re healing. Can you lift your leg just a bit?”

Tim groans, but lifts his leg just enough for Abby to put a pillow between his knees. Once he’s done that, Abby pulls the blanket back over him, and leans down to kiss his cheek. 

“Welcome home, my love,” she whispers. “Get some rest. We’ll be here once you’re awake.”

“Mmm hmm,” he manages before he falls asleep. Chris, Robo, and I wait as Abby tucks Snuffy underneath Tim’s arm. He looks so _young,_ but then again, I’m sure I’ll always think that because I’m his mother. 

All three of us head back toward the living room. 

“Thank you kindly, Chris. I don’t know how we would’ve managed getting home without you.”

“I’m happy to help, Abby,” he tells her. “I’ve also stocked the fridge for you, too. There’s casseroles in the freezer if you’re not wanting to cook for a while.”

“You’re wonderful, Chris,” she reaches up to hug him. “Are you sure you have to go? I’m sure it would help Tim even more if he woke up and you were here still.”

“Sorry to say, but yes, I have to. Poor Noreen will have my guts for garters if I don’t come into the restaurant this afternoon.”

ooOoo

I chuckled, hearing the words I said to Tim being parroted back at me. “Sounds like what my grandmother wants from us,” I smiled. “She wants to meet Tim, since she’s only ever heard of him. I can’t exactly tell her ‘I’m getting married!’ and then not show up with him on my arm.”

Chris chuckled and bent to kiss my cheek in farewell. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will, thank you again.”

Once he’d driven away, I went back into the house and set to the task of putting the household back together now that Tim was home.

ooOoo

As much as I’m happy to be home, I’m bored out of my mind. I still have a limited range of movement while I heal and do my physiotherapy, and as such, I can’t do much or go anywhere. One thing that I’ve discovered through all this, however, is that basic dance steps are good for stretching out my leg and back muscles. So, I guess you could say that I’ve gotten good at the fundamental building blocks of several different dances, thanks to Abby. 

“Slow, quick quick, slow…” Abby guides me as we move around the living room. We stop, and she looks at me and smiles. “You just did a Rumba box step.” She squeezes my arm. “Ray Kowalski, eat your heart out.”

I snort. “I don’t think I’m _that_ good yet.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll get there.” We start moving again, swaying to music only we can hear. “You’ve come a long way in the last six weeks, my love. If all goes well, you could be back to work soon.”

“I hope so,” I tell her. “I miss being on the street. As much as I like being home, I’m not much use staring at the walls.”

“You don’t just stare at the walls, hun.”

“Well no, but I’m going a little stir crazy. I want to go back to work.”

“Soon, just don’t rush it,” she guides me around into the beginning of a Foxtrot. We start off on the wrong foot, but neither of us mind. “Try that again. Remember, Foxtrot is different. Slow, slow, quick, quick. Slow, slow, quick, quick.”

As we go around the living room, Robo is lying down in the corner, watching. He’s gotten used to us dancing together, and is waiting for us to take him for his second walk of the day. Since I’ve been injured, he’s gotten used to having me around more, and the two of us have reached an understanding: while Abby’s at work, we will keep each other busy. As a result, I have nearly finished with my physical therapy, and Robo gets a lot of exercise. My doctor has even said that I could go back to work in as little as six weeks from now. 

“Hey, Abby?”

“Yes?”

“I miss you.”

“Miss me? We’re holding each other right now. How can you miss me?”

We stop for a moment, and I bend to kiss her. 

ooOoo

Oh. _That’s_ what he means.

“Very well said,” I answer, smirking. “But I’m not sure we can, not with your back the way it is right now.”

He chuckles. “You make me sound like an old man.”

“You’re not old. I didn’t fall in love with an old man…”

There’s a look of mischief in his eyes as he kisses me.

Of course, that’s when the phone decided to ring.

“Let the machine get it.” He sounds as frustrated as I feel.

“Okay…” I look over to see that Robo has gotten tired of waiting and has decided to have a nap. “I’ll be gentle.”

ooOoo

Once we get into the bedroom and lock the door behind us, that’s it. Clothes are flying everywhere, the two of us trying to melt into each other, leaving no patch of skin untouched. I feel Abby reach between us and cup me, and I can’t help myself. I thrust up. 

“Let me…” she manages, and she sinks down, taking me all at once. She gasps and moans, and I stop, giving her a moment to adjust. “Oh my God!”

“Do you know how beautiful you are, balanced like that?” I tell her, regardless of my back twinging slightly. “So good. You’re so good, Abby.”

She clenches, and rocks for a moment. It sends a shockwave through my entire body. I put my hands up on her hips and roll her over so that I’m on top. We stop for a moment, and Abby looks up at me through her eyelashes and flashes me a cheeky grin, almost as though she’s going to eat me if I wait any longer. 

“You okay, love?” She asks, even though she knows I’ll tell her if something is really wrong. 

I bend down and kiss her, and her hips come up to meet mine. She’s setting the pace, and it’s quick. It’s all I can do to keep up. I’m not sure what’s brought this on, but I like it. I like it a lot.

“Go, go…” she pulls me forward and hisses in my ear. “ _Please,_ Tim. I want you. I want you _so_ much. _Hard.”_

When she’s begging me like this, there’s no way I could refuse her. I thrust, and she’s so turned on she’s not bothering to keep quiet. Not that she needs to, but it’s not usually like this.

“Oh _fuck!”_ I pant as Abby runs her nails down my back, careful of the still sensitive patch of healing skin. “Do that again…”

She does, and usually that would be enough to send me over the edge. I don’t let it though. I want her to go over first. 

“No, your turn…” she insists, wrapping her legs around me even tighter. “Your turn first. Come on…”

That’s all I need. Abby’s head thrown back and her keening is the last thing I see and hear before I gray out for a moment. 

As I come back, Abby is gentling me back down, letting my heartbeat slow. My ears are ringing as I lower myself down beside her in the bed and kiss her neck. 

I’m just about breathing normally again when Abby turns her head and grins at me. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself, you sexy lady,” I slur in response. “Where’d _that_ come from?”

She shrugs. “I was horny.” 

“ _Horny?”_ I’m stunned as all get out now. “You’re telling me that all the other times we’ve made love, you _haven’t_ been?”

“Oh you damn well _know_ I was,” she’s still grinning at me. “Tonight I was just… _really_ horny.” She turns over onto her side and settled back down. “Frankly that was probably a couple of weeks worth of energy pent up.”

“Has it really been that long since we had sex?” 

“We got busy with getting the house set up and address changes and making sure Robo is settled in. Plus I’ve been neck deep in book launch material and helping at the bar, and you’ve been in hospital and now at home recovering.” She sighs in contentment. “That wasn’t too hard on your back, was it?”

“No, not at all. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that side of you,” I turn over onto my side as she slowly sits up and walks toward the en-suite bathroom. “That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it, but what about you?” I knew she enjoyed it, but I was hoping she understood the double meaning behind the question.

She did. “I’ll have my turn later,” she finishes flushing and turns the tap on the sink. “You always wait for me. It was your turn this afternoon.” 

I get up and bump her hip with mine so we can both have space at the sink. “You tell me what you’d like and we’ll go from there.”

“Mostly I just wanted to see you let go,” Abby hands me the toothpaste as she starts on brushing her teeth. “I wanted to see that side of you that I so rarely see.”

“And what’s that?”

“You looked _free_ ,” she says around the toothbrush in her mouth. “The look on your face just then, it’s beautiful. _You’re_ beautiful. Sometimes it’s like you forget that.”

“Free, huh?” I finish putting toothpaste on my own toothbrush and start just as she spits into the sink, rinses her mouth, then grabs the mouthwash. “Wait, you think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course I do,” she says after spitting out the mouthwash. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“I wouldn’t have said beautiful. Awkwardly handsome, maybe. But beautiful?” I mimic her actions before she hands me the bottle of mouthwash.

“That’s how I see you, and I have from the first night I met you,” she waits as I finish rinsing my mouth out. “If you don’t want me to say that outside our bedroom, I won’t, but I thought you should hear it.”

I kiss her, and taste the mint toothpaste and mouthwash. 

“I love you, Abby Fraser.”

“I love you too, Tim Bayliss.”

With that, I wrap my arm around her waist and guide her back to bed, and, for the first time in a few weeks, I sleep peacefully, Abby lying against me.

ooOoo

I wake up a few hours later to Tim’s strong, calloused hands running up and down the front of my body. 

Oh thank God. He’s getting his strength and dexterity back, and finally, I can relax. He’s there; he can hold me. I’ve had to do everything while he’s been recovering, and now it’s almost as though he wants to give something back to me. I feel his fingers stop and pinch my nipples before moving further down, pausing between my legs. 

I shiver, waiting for his next move. His fingers dance over in the inside of my thighs, asking permission. I moan and crane my neck back, giving Tim access to the spot just below my jaw that I know he likes. He kisses me there, a suggestive noise promising pleasure. 

I turn my head and return the kiss. It’s messy, and loud, and _fuck_ — I want him just as much as I did a few hours ago. I feel him rubbing small circles on my clit, making sure I’m ready. He’s letting me acclimatize to his fingers, slow and steady as I feel the heat building in my belly. 

“If only you could see yourself right now, Abby,” he growls in my ear, voice low in his throat. “So sexy.”

I curse out loud, wanting more, _needing_ more. I bring my hips up. 

“Please.” I’m begging him now, and I don’t care. 

He obliges, curling his fingers. Jesus Christ, that’s good. He’s always been able to feel how close I am, and there’s no way he’d miss it now because I’m moaning incoherent nonsense.

The world stops, and there’s heat bursting through my entire body, Tim’s arms holding me against his torso as I ride the wave up one side and down the other. 

As I calm down, I melt against him and sigh. 

“It’s later,” he whispers in my ear, and it’s the filthiest greeting I’ve ever heard. 

I chuckle, utterly boneless. That’s certainly not a bad way to wake up. 

ooOoo

Of course, we can’t stay in bed forever. I still need to take Robo for another walk, and continue working on the rehab exercises for my back, especially if I want to get back to work in a timely manner. I miss everything about the job. I miss being out on the street, working with Meldrick and John at the Waterfront, even Gee grousing about something or other when things stall. Although some of that, I think is for show. Either way, I want to get back to work. 

But lying here right now, I know how lucky I am to have Abby in my life. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the last six weeks without her. She’s taken care of everything while I’ve been out of commission. Suddenly I don’t feel like I deserve her, even if she’ll insist I do. 

Here I am, Tim Bayliss, BPD Homicide, engaged to a book publisher. How did _that_ happen?

Even though I may never know, I’m not going to tempt Fate any more than I have already.

I have a feeling Fate will do that for me.


End file.
